


6:34

by seraph_writes



Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Death, Dream Sequence, Limbo, Meta, blood mention, spoilers for chapter 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-25 21:13:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21362764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seraph_writes/pseuds/seraph_writes
Summary: It was the same dream again, but this time it started in a classroom.(Time of death is 6:33pm)
Relationships: Sal Fisher & Larry Johnson - Relationship
Kudos: 18





	6:34

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this in a sudden inspiration-fueled episode very late at night,,, this is all weird meta stuff and also not edited/beta'd

The clock on the wall read 6:34. Sal was in his old high school classroom, sitting at his desk and wearing his orange prison uniform. Mrs Packerton was standing at the chalkboard, presumably explaining something to the class, but the room was deafeningly quiet. The young man spotted Travis Phelps a few rows up turn around, smirk maliciously, and then lob a rolled up wad of paper at Sal’s face. It hit him on his fake, white cheek, and he did not flinch. Out of creeping curiosity, Sal turned around and saw that Larry was not sitting behind him in his usual seat. 

A surging swell of panic shot up within him and he felt the desperate need to find him. The room buzzed and fragmented like the reflection in a broken mirror. Mrs Packerton’s wrinkly skin slid off her skull, and then everything clicked back into place the moment Sal stood up from his desk. The students stared straight ahead at the chalkboard and did not notice him as he left.

The air was not stale like it would have been in Nockfell High’s hallways. It was clean, sanitized.  _ Like a hospital _ . Sal noticed, as he walked, that the rows of lockers were slowly being replaced by white doors with plaques of four-digit numbers on each one. The young man stopped at a particular door that had a small window next to it, with thick white blinds that were partially drawn. Through the window Sal could see a simple room with white floors and white wallpaper. On the white bedside table was a vase of flowers and a shiny ‘Get Well Soon’ card. In the middle of the room was a hospital bed. Sal turned the handle on the room and walked inside.

The clock on the wall read 6:34. Sal turned his gaze to the figure laying under the thin blue sheets on the hospital bed. Her straw-coloured hair was splayed out over the pillow, and her hands laid daintily at her sides. Even as she was dying, Sal’s mother still looked beautiful.

“Hi mom,” Sal said carefully, “I’m looking for Larry, do you know where he is?”

“Go to where your blood watered the grass, and you will find him.” She replied. Her voice was soft and kind, just like Sal always remembered it. He approached her side slowly, lifted his mask, pressed a kiss to her cheek and left.

Sal stepped out and found himself in a forest. The white door was fused into a massive tree. Sal took a quick look around, saw nothing but trees and began to walk.

Sal walked for a long time. He walked until he came to a clearing. The clearing opened up into a large park. It was an infinite space crowded with picnic tables and paisley blankets that stretched on into the mist. In the centre was a small hill with a tree at the very top. A solitary figure was sitting against the trunk.

The young man trudged up the side of the hill and stopped in front of the figure — Larry — who was relaxing casually against the side of the tree. Laying across his lap was a huge, monstrous black dog. Larry seemed quite content to sit there and pet its pitch black fur. Sal scrunched up his nose under his prosthetic as the dog stared back at him with piercing red eyes. 

“Hey Larry,” Sal greeted, a note of discomfort in his voice.

“‘Sup Sally Face,” Larry replied. He raised his hand as if to wave, but the dog’s fur was like slime and coated his hand, connecting it to its body in vile, stretching tendrils. Sal held back a noise of disgust.

“Why are you hanging out with that thing, dude? It’s seriously creeping me out.” 

“I dunno,” Larry said easily, “It just sorta decided to chill. I’m fine with it.” The dog huffed from its nose and stood up on all fours. It slowly opened its lips to reveal two rows of crooked, razor-sharp canines.

“You got me this time, kid. But now you have to exist with the sacrifices you made.” The voice came from its mouth, but its lips didn’t move. Promptly, the dog turned and stalked down the other side of the hill and into the mist. Larry watched it go, the lazy smile not leaving his face.

After a long, empty moment, Sal sat down next to Larry under the tree. “So… where  _ are  _ we?” He asked. Larry shrugged “This is where I ended up after I went to the treehouse that night.” Sal didn’t respond. There was the sound of gears turning in the distance.

“Y’know what that means, right Sal?” Larry’s voice was suddenly serious, that relaxed quality to it was completely gone. The reality of the situation hit the man like 4500 volts of electricity straight to his brain.

Sal was dead.


End file.
